Good Morning Ted and Jody:
While it is not “pipe freezing cold” yet; I did get up several times during the night to run the water. Practice for the next seven to ten days. When I lived on Coe Road we had the water freeze once and break a pump. The light in the pump house burned out. Who would have thought that a light bulb that was on all the time would only last 7-years. I was surprised at how fast a well drilling company restored our water in the early 1980s—less than a day. They replaced the pump with one down in the well. Way down. Of course, we still needed the light in the pump house as the water line still came up to there before going down below 3 feet again. I always wondered why they didn’t make a turn at 3 feet and eschew the need for a pump house entirely. As you can tell, the possibility of a loss of water with this week or so of subfreezing weather is on my mind.
What little snow we got over night was the fine particulate snow. It filled in most of the gaps where the heavier snow melted yesterday in the blistering 37-degree weather that maintained until sundown. Hence, it is still beautiful outside. Today would be a good day to read a newspaper. Unfortunately, our local paper stopped publishing on Mondays. It seems they judge that nothing happens of note on Sundays after the Sunday paper goes to bed. If the Earth ended, we would have to wait to read about it in our Tuesday paper. So, on Monday’s I keep my fingers crossed that the world hasn’t ended and I just don’t know yet.
Nancy sees the surgeon tomorrow morning at 9:00 A.M. She is already fussing about how early we may have to leave home given the possibility that the roads are bad. You would think she would worry about the world having ended and our not know it instead—something really important.
I am attaching the next installment of the now novella I am writing—it reached 30,000 words now, so falls into that category.
Warmest regards, Ed
026 Special Agent Fleishman Explains
Fiction in 1051 words by T. Edward Westen, 2017
Detective Philipson broke the silence. “So, why not get a pizza and set up in the conference room and see if we can figure out what to do.” Looking at his partner, “If that is OK ‘your seniorship’.?”
“And to think I don’t get paid for all this responsibility. OK. Make sure one has only veggies and beef or chicken for me.” Replied Detective Batan. “I’ll call my wife and let her know I am working late.” With that he pulled out his cell phone and walked toward the interrogation room for privacy.
Special Agent Fleishman turned to Detective Philipson, “Not married.”
“Happily married to a nurse working on earning her RN. She has the second shift today. We would have to have a very long meeting for her to beat me home.” Said a smiling Detective Philipson.
The two men looked at Ms. Gunderson who said. “I don’t report to anyone, but need to clean up some ‘stuff downstairs’.” She turned on her heel and left.
It took a few minutes to get the pizza order together. Then Jeremy Eastman volunteered to wait in the waiting area for it to be delivered. Since the evening shift was leaving and the overnight was a skeleton crew, they decided to use the interrogation room instead of the conference room for the discussion. Special Agent Fleishman insisted it would be best if the conference were recorded for Detective Batan’s later protection against overreaching his authority in working with an agent from the future. When that decision was made Detective Batan patted the coat pocket in which his cell phone rested.
Edith Gunderson was back before the pizza got there. Indeed, she was gone less than five minutes. She looked a lot less disheveled than a woman who had fallen because of a collision and then from shock. To put it succinctly Edith Gunderson looked refreshed when she returned.
Once settled in, Special Agent Fleishman said “I guess the ball is in my court.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“to bring the two citizens up to speed,” guestering to Edith Gundersonand Jeremy Eastman, “I am Special Agent Anderson Fleishman of the Agency for Timeline Integrity. The agency . . .”
Ms. Gunderson interrupted. “Say that again.”
“Agency for Timeline Integrity” repeated Special Agent Fleishman. “Our agency was set up as soon as physicists assured us that time travel was not only feasible but eminent. We were well aware that small changes in history could be catastrophic. Our Agency is charged with seeing that everyone’s right to a future is preserved. When the Agency for Timeline Integrity will be set up is a long way in your future; but, it was setup a measly 15 years ago in my time. . .”
“He’s pulling our leg.” Said Jeremy pointing to the Special Agent.
Detective Batan said, “You don’t believe him you can leave. It makes it much easier if you are not privy to the rest of this.”
“No, No, I believe, I saw him and him,” said Jeremy Eastman pointing to the Special Agent and Detective Philipson, “vanish and I saw them a split second later reappear some 30 feet away from where they vanished. If he isn’t from the future, someone must have slipped me some LSD.”
“You know what, why not eat pizza and listen to the Special Agent. We will all learn a lot more that way.” Said Detective Batan.
“Right!” said Jeremy Eastman grabbing a piece of pizza.
“OK, so, a few years ago, in my time, the person you called Judge Belemany was one of the personnel working on the construction of the second-time machine, we call them transporters. He sent himself back in time to this era. Then after he left, both transporters were destroyed in a most cataclysmic manner. He used a delay algorithm on the controls to transport an active volcano flow into each transporter. Those first base transporters were about twice the size of the building we are in. You can imagine what damage that amount of hot lava would do.”
Jeremy Eastman was squirming in his seat. Agent Fleischman looked at Jeremy Eastman and said, “I can read the questions on your face, I believe the expression is ‘like subtitles on foreign films.’”
“Never heard that expression before; but, I’ll wait, go on.” Said Jeremy Eastman.
“One of his coworkers entered the building when the time the transporter turned itself into a volcano and died instantly. Thus, the murder charge.” Said, Special Agent Fleishman.
Edith Gunderson visibly shuddered.
“So, you were sent to bring him back.” Said Detective Philipson.
“Not exactly, in the long term yes, but I am here to find out what changes he caused in history. No one goes through life without causing something to happen someplace. In short what he has done that could cause timeline perturbations in the future or what if undone because of his intervention would cause the other upheavals in the time line. Taking him back, willy-nilly, could be as devastating as the delayed destruction of the time transporters he caused when he left.” Special Agent Fleishman held his hand up for a moment to indicate he was not done and wanted to finish as he noticed several of them squirming and then finished. “I guess you could say I am here to detect what his impact was on the immediate past since he arrived; what his impact is on the now; and what it will be on the future.”
Detective Batan replied. “We have similar concerns. Since he tried to kill Ms. Gunderson here, we surmise that he was up to something that she might have a clue about.”
Special Agent Fleishman looked at Edith Gunderson with some interest. “Any why did he want you dead. What do you know he was afraid of?”
Edith Gunderson shook her head in a way that showed she did not know. “I worked though his court for some of my cases. I got leads from him on child abuse from time to time. But why he would want me dead I do not know.”
Jeremy Eastman spoke up “I think it was the White Case from 20-years ago. I think there is something rotten there and the Judge must have thought Ms. Gunderson would give him away